The Plantation - Di Morrissey [20]
‘I do hope that the Peninsula Hotel which Roland has organised for the reception is adequate, not a rowdy sort of place,’ worried Winifred.
Margaret was swept up in the whole idea of being a wife and living on an exotic plantation, which she described in extravagant detail to her friends. When her mother asked which country they might eventually end up in, especially if children came along, Margaret ignored the question.
‘Why, we have the best of all worlds, surely. Roland has family in England, his parents in Malaya and my family here.’
Winifred looked sad. ‘I fear your family here will be at the bottom of the list. But never mind, so long as you are happy, comfortable and healthy, that’s all I ask.’
‘Mother, don’t be silly. Of course we’ll come and visit. Lots of times,’ said Margaret, although she was unsure how often this would be. Roland had mentioned a trip back to England every couple of years or so.
*
Margaret embraced her father and sister at the station at Roma Street before she and her mother alighted the Sydney- bound train. In Sydney they would board their liner. It wasn’t until the train had left the station and gathered speed that it occurred to Margaret that she was leaving her home and family and had no idea when she might see them again. She was glad that her mother was travelling with her, though she did suspect she’d be looking after Winifred more than the other way around. Winifred was not much of a traveller.
‘I do hope Ted will manage,’ said Winifred, dabbing at her eyes as she waved goodbye to her husband and younger daughter.
‘Bette will keep an eye on him. They’ll be fine. Now, Mother, I need you to be strong. You’re supposed to be helping me, the nervous bride,’ said Margaret, not looking the least bit concerned or nervous.
‘Yes, dear. You’re right,’ sighed her mother. ‘It just seems such a big step. Marriage. A strange country. Different sort of people.’ She struggled to smile. ‘Well, at least I’ll know where you are, and you can explain it all to us when you write.’
‘That’s right. Now let’s make the most of the trip. The voyage will be fun and very relaxing for you. A real holiday,’ said Margaret.
When the time came to disembark, Winifred eyed the Singapore River, crowded with all manner of strange small craft as well as ships and freighters. In front of the godowns and warehouses was stacked all kinds of cargo. On the wharves, among the crush of people, Chinese coolies in their peaked hats carried poles weighed down with heavy baskets, while Indian porters pushed barrows laden with luggage and trishaw drivers touted for business. Sauntering Europeans in starched uniforms or linen suits stood out as they carefully escorted well-dressed women who carried umbrellas to ward off the sun. As Margaret watched from the deck, she saw many of them nodding and exchanging greetings.
Winifred fanned herself and wondered what kind of a world they’d come to and how she’d cope with it all, even for a short time.
Margaret seemed quite calm amidst all the chaos and, helped by the purser, found an Indian taxi driver. ‘He’s honest and reliable, miss. He will take you to the dock where the Straits Steamship leaves for Port Swettenham and help you with your luggage, which has gone ahead.’
They set off, the taxi nosing its way through the crowd of trishaws, drays, carts, pedestrians and cars.
When they arrived at the dock from where the Straits Steamship was leaving, Margaret whispered to her mother, ‘Honest, my foot. I think he’s taken us in a very circuitous way.’
‘Never mind, dear, just pay him what he asks and let’s find our belongings,’ said Winifred, feeling faint.
‘You’ll feel better after a good rest. Our steamship leaves at four this afternoon for Port Swettenham, and then it’s just a short train trip to Kuala Lumpur in the morning. We’re very lucky that the arrival of our P&O ship coincided with the departure of the coastal vessel, so we don’t have to wait around in Singapore,’ said Margaret.